Nature, Photography
Communion with a Bobcat
A rare sighting while mountain biking
To see a bobcat is like seeing a ghost, who only lets you catch a glimpse of it if it decides it wants to show itself. So, while I was pedaling through the tall summer-dry grasses on Horseshoe Loop Trail, behind Irvine Regional Park, and what looked like a large house cat ran across the trail six or so feet in front of me, my mind at first refused to believe what my eyes were telling it.
I hit the brakes hard and came to a stop.
“A cat!” was my first reaction. But why would a house cat be out here? It would be coyote chow before it would even realize the error of its misadventure.
“A coyote pup?” was my next thought. Then, “Oh boy, I’m not sure I want to get in the way of a mother coyote and her wayward pup.”
But just as soon as it cleared the path, the animal slowed to an amble and strolled over to the base of a scrubby tree, just a few feet away from me.
I realized then that I was face to face with an elusive bobcat.
I’ve seen one before — over twenty years ago — on another bike ride. But I ride these hills almost every day. And while I’ve seen lots of coyotes, road runners, rabbits, lizards, quail, and other creatures, I’ve never seen a bobcat here before.
My heart pattered with excitement. I didn’t even think before I spoke. But I heard myself saying, “Oh, you are such a pretty kitty!” just like I say to my own kitties at home.
And, to my utter amazement, it stopped, sat down, turned its face to me and blinked, just like my kitties do when they are smiling. I was certain that it would soon run, disappearing into the grasses. But, I think that it must have been as curious about me as I was about it. It simply stared at me, utterly relaxed in its pose.
I almost felt like it was wondering what it would be like to “have a human” like my cats “have” me.
We had full eye contact for probably thirty seconds, a time that seemed like eternity, before it turned its head away, its ears beginning to twitch to the rustle of a bird in the bushes.
The bird seemed to gain her almost-total focus. But she did flick her ears in my direction a few times, as if to say, “I know you’re still there.”
She seemed so unalarmed by my presence that I wondered if I could pull out my iPhone to take a photo. I was so afraid that she would dash off. But, slowly, I slid my pack around and pulled out my phone. The bobcat stayed put.
I took a quick snap (top photo) and then zoomed in with the phone. The photos are a little grainy, but I just couldn’t believe this magical creature was even letting me remain this close to her.
I even laid down my bike on the trail and came a little closer. She just turned around once more and met my gaze before turning her attention back to the bird in the bushes.
Eventually, she trotted off. To follow the bird? Because she was bored of me? I’ll never know.
It only lasted a couple of minutes, but that communion with a bobcat — a creature of the wild, but also a creature so similar to my house cats — is one of those rare few moments that I will carry with me for the rest of my life.
These are the moments that shape you. These are the moments which catch you when you’re closing your eyes to fall asleep. These are the moments that “flash upon that inward eye,” as William Wordsworth once said.
For it is in these moments that we might slip between the veils of the ordinary world and of the world of the savage beauty of nature. And it is then that we just might be lucky enough to be immersed into a quick glimpse of awe.
And once we’ve tasted that awe, it lives, as a part of us, forever.
Erika Burkhalter is a yogi, neurophilosopher, cat-mom, photographer, and lover of travel and nature, spreading her love and amazement for Mother Earth’s glories, one photo, poem, or story at a time. (MS Neuropsychology, MA Yoga Studies).
Thank you for reading. I hope that you enjoyed my meandering musings and photos.
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Photos and story ©Erika Burkhalter. All rights reserved.
